bailey
In the few seconds between when the lightning struck and the generator started was the silence, long overdue.
Christmas.
I was eight years old, sitting at the dinner table running the edges of my new velvet dress between my fingers.
Christmas.
I was eight years old, sitting at the dinner table running the edges of my new black dress between my fingers.
Life is long and I am patient. With each rush of water my feet sink a little deeper into the sand.
When I was a kid I used to watch a show where a girl would throw a magical conch shell into the ocean, and a seahorse would rise out of the water.
At the beach one summer, my uncle Paul found a conch shell in the water and brought it back to the shore for me. I quickly threw it back, hoping something would happen as the tide carried it away. Nothing did. I want it back.